


The First Night of the Rest of Our Lives

by Defira



Category: Cinders
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tales, First Love, First Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defira/pseuds/Defira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the hours after the Masquerade Ball, Guard Captain Perrault and Cinders flee into the night and towards an uncertain future together. It's the first night of freedom for them, and there's little question as to how they intend to spend it... but will everything go smoothly for the besotted runaways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Midnight: the witching hour. The time when the sprites and the fairies crept from their shadowed glens to dance beneath the stars, when witches drifted between puddles of moonlight collecting herbs that only blossomed beneath silver light, when the world seemed crisp and sharp and magically surreal. And while it was true that she _knew_ a woman who others called a witch, and she _had_ met an honest to goodness fairy just a few nights earlier, she had to admit that the most surreal and magical part of the evening had nothing to do with the supernatural and everything to do with the man clutching tight to her hand as they dashed down through the forest together on an overgrown path that he assured her would lead them to the Imperial Highway. 

Her chest was tight and her breathing was ragged as they ran, and neither was necessarily from the exertion; she could still taste Perrault’s kiss, and the memory of his tongue sweeping cautiously over her lip was enough to make her shiver deliciously. He must have felt it, for he glanced back at her, and she couldn’t help but grin at the lopsided half smile he offered her. 

“Do you need us to go slower?” he asked, his gravelly voice tinged with concern. Heavens above, but that voice did things to her.

Cinders did her best to look unconcerned, which was not particularly easy while she was huffing for breath and struggling to keep pace with the- admirably fit- Captain. “Not at all,” she managed, smiling in genuine excitement. “The further we make it before dawn, the better, right? Before they release the hounds?”

He frowned at that, and immediately slowed his steps. “No one will be sending hounds after us,” he said, falling into a brisk walk instead of the steady jog they’d been moving at. They wound in and around the trees, following a path that only he apparently could see. “The Prince would never allow such a thing.”

“It’s a _joke_ , my dear Captain,” she said, silently grateful for their reduced speed. Her side was beginning to ache sharply; the life of a serving girl was hard, but it hadn’t exactly built up her endurance. “You think my stepmother would waste money on _hounds_ , of all things?” 

His laughter was sharp and unexpected- it occurred to her that she didn’t think she’d heard him laugh before. She’d roused the occasional chuckle from him, on the few occasions that he’d commented on her quick wit, but never a warm and hearty laugh like the sound that broke through the night’s calm now. It sent a quiet thrill through her, and she smiled contentedly as he turned back to her. “And yet, if there’s one thing I learned in all my time at the Royal Palace, the fastest way to a young man’s heart is through his hounds. For someone as cunning as Carmosa proved herself to be, I’m surprised she had not yet had your house converted to half kennel.”

“And here you surprise me, Perrault. Teaching me such delusions- I would have sworn that the fastest way to a young man’s heart was between his ribs.”

His laughter became choked, and he pulled them to a halt to stare at her. The sky was scattered with clouds, and the moon was mostly hidden as he pulled her close. Her breath caught in her chest as she sought out his eyes in the darkness, wondering if he might, _possibly_ , hopefully-

“Lord almighty, you do have a quick tongue, my dear,” he said, his fingers brushing against her cheek so softly that she mistook it for the breeze for a moment. “Do you have a witty response to everything?” His other hand was still entwined with hers, fingers linked intimately, and the heat of his palm was possibly the most delightful thing she’d ever encountered. 

She wasn’t sure if he could see her in the dark, but she winked anyway. “Everything that matters,” she said loftily. She lifted their joined hands between them, until she could touch her lips to one of his scarred knuckles. His sharp intake of breath was exhilarating, and it was all she could do not to giggle in delight. “What can I say? I’m a quick study.”

His own breathing was ragged as he said “ _Evidently_.” For a long, electrifying moment they were frozen like that, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw and down her neck, raising goosebumps as they went, her lips brushing delicate kisses onto the back of his hand. He broke first, a fierce shudder rippling through him as he stepped back and put a safer amount of space between them. “Come,” he said, his voice raspy. “It is not far now to the Highway. Hopefully we will find an innkeeper willing to let a pair of vagabonds hammer open his door in the wee hours of the morning.”

She let him lead her forward again, their speed not quite as frantic as it had been ten minutes earlier but still substantial. “It would not be such a bad thing if we had to sleep outdoors,” she said, glancing up at the brilliant stars and the silvery moon. “The weather is pleasant enough, and I’ve endured greater hardships than moss and wildflowers beneath me.”

His hand tightened around hers for a moment, unintentionally as far as she could tell. “I will not… that is to say, you deserve better than… I won’t have you-” He cursed under his breath, and if she didn’t know better she would have said he was embarrassed. “You will sleep in a bed,” he forced out. 

His awkwardness intrigued her, and she couldn’t help but push against it. “Oh? I didn’t know my sleeping habits were going to be determined by you now.”

Even in the darkness, she could see the fire in his eyes as he glanced back at her. “There may not be much in the way of sleeping, lass. Although I would have assumed you’d have had fair warning of that by now.”

Oh, mercy, those words _did things_ to her. “I had assumed as much,” she said casually, even though her stomach was utterly full of butterflies, and her blood seemed to sizzle just beneath the skin. “Like I said- I’m a quick study.”

She could have sworn he swallowed- nervously, perhaps? “Well then,” he said, his voice slipping slightly at the end in a way that made her shiver. “We’d best be on our way.”


	2. Chapter 2

The forest soon gave way, the trees thinning as they ran until their feet left the soft grass and came thumping down onto the worn cobblestones of the Imperial Highway. Perrault pulled up fast, and Cinders nearly ran into him, stumbling at the abrupt change of pace. He caught her before the fall become somewhat more severe, his free hand catching her by the elbow and giving her back her balance. 

It was all rather clumsy and awkward, and they were both breathing hard from the run; she had to laugh at the gracelessness of it all, and he gave that lopsided grin of his, a cautious sort of smile that made her think he wasn’t all that familiar with smiling in the first place. It broke her heart a little, to see that hesitation, and before her more sensible side could rouse herself in time to stop such madness, she leaned up on her toes and kissed him. 

She felt him reel back slightly, as if he hadn’t been expecting it and she’d caught him off guard- oh, that was a good one, catching the Guard Captain off guard, she was going to use that one again for sure- but it took only a fraction of a second for him to relax and lean back in to her. He was deliciously warm, a counterpoint to the cool midnight air, and she slid one hand around his neck, fingers toying with the scruffy ends of his hair. 

She felt his lips curl against hers, a smile that delighted her no end, and as his hands slid over her to the small of her back, tugging her even closer, she couldn’t help but smile in return. And then she laughed, of course, because how could she not laugh when there was so much mad excitement and delight bubbling up inside of her? It broke the moment; not that she minded when Perrault joined her, a bashful sort of laugh that was as cautious as his earlier smile. 

“You are quite adept at driving me to distraction,” he murmured, his hands hot even through the layers of her dress. “I’m quite sure I was a great deal more level headed before I met you.”

“Nonsense,” she said loftily. “No-one who ever saw how many belts you wore would ever call you sensible or level headed.”

His smile turned rueful. “True as that may be, I’m standing in the middle of the road, at midnight, kissing a girl half my age whose last name I don’t even know, on an adventure with no destination. That’s rather the opposite of _sensible_.”

She leaned in close, pressed her nose to his and whispered conspiratorially “But it _is_ exciting, no?” 

He laughed. “Undeniably so,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. And then, in a voice that sent shivers dancing over her skin, whispered “You have no idea.”

She stepped back, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Well then,” she said, walking slowly backwards down the road, keeping her arms firmly on her hips, “I hope you’re going to be a gentleman and educate me at some point. It’s hardly fair for you to have the upper hand in anything.”

He followed her slowly, his long coat billowing in the breeze; the look on his face was delightfully wicked, and it felt like some scandalous game of cat and mouse, with she the mouse being stalked by a graceful predator. “You toy with things you don’t fully understand, my dear Cinders,” he growled. “And with inappropriate timing too- we’ve still got a ways to go before we make it to an inn.”

“Where’s the fun if it’s not inappropriate?” she countered, laughing as he hastened his steps to catch up to her. But he did not tackle her to the ground as she desperately wanted him to- if only to see how far his restraint could be pushed- merely taking her hand in his once again and leading her down the road towards their freedom. 

They were silent for a time, until they came to a rise in the path and he slowed, turning to face back the way they had come. Curious, she glanced back too, and was startled to see that she could see straight back to the town which was still ablaze with activity. The palace too was still lit brightly from within, like a magnificent tiara settled against the hill. She felt no pang of trepidation in her stomach, no sudden regret that she might have made a mistake- but she could tell she was the only one who felt that way.

It was curious- only a week earlier she’d been trapped by her own hand, too afraid to do more than grumble to herself before she fell asleep each night. Where this bold new spirit had come from, she hardly knew. The woman she was a week before probably would have been mortified to see her flirting and kissing with such a strange man as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing.

And in a way, it was. Which was why her heart ached to see the disquiet in his eyes as he looked back towards the life they had both lived.

“Perrault?” she asked quietly, waiting for his gaze to turn back to her. There was anguish in his eyes, but it softened when he looked at her. His hand came up to her face almost out of instinct, calloused fingers brushing against her cheek as if he were reminding himself of what he had. “My name is Thibauld.”

He blinked once or twice, her words obviously not what he had been expecting. “Your… name?”

She nodded. “You said you were running away with a girl half your age whose last name you didn’t even know,” she said. “Well, my family name is Thibauld. _And_ , I might add, I don’t very well know your name either, sir.”

He laughed, and turned his back on the town. “I might add as well, my lady, that you never asked for my name,” he said, squeezing her hand as he lead her down the road once more. “So it’s hardly fair to go slinging accusations at my noble character.”

“You can rest assured, Captain, that no slander passed by my lips.”

“Is that so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her innocent expression. The smile that came after was more relaxed, and she knew the danger had passed and his heart was certain once more. “Let us hurry, it cannot be much further from memory.”

Another ten minutes of brisk walking proved him to be correct, as the dark shape of a building began to resolve itself in the distance. It was illuminated by a single lantern on a post out the front- an excellent sign, he assured her, because it meant despite the late hour there would still be someone to receive them. If the light had been snuffed for the night, their welcome would have been a great deal colder.

Cinders hugged her arms around herself as Perrault slammed his fist against the door; she could not tell if it was nerves or excitement that sizzled through her. She did not know whether she was being over eager, or perhaps presumptuous? Maybe he intended for them to sleep in separate rooms, anyway, and all her curious fantasies were for nothing. Maybe he was going to be a gentleman as he had implied previously, and she was working herself into a tizzy for nothing. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any sort of experience in these sorts of affairs at all-

She giggled suddenly and clapped a hand over her mouth. Affairs indeed! Her brain seemed determined to think of the most ridiculous things tonight.

Perrault glanced back at her briefly, a curious sort of look on his face as he took in her laughter; he shook his head and hammered on the door again. His persistence paid off, for there came a muffled voice from inside, and the sound of a latch being lifted. A small, wizened fellow eased the door open and peered through the crack, taking in the sight of her with much more assurance than Perrault standing far too close. 

“Can I help you?” he said, in a voice that was rusty with sleep. Some night man he was- he’d obviously indulged in a nap, not expecting to be disturbed this late.

“We seek lodgings for the night,” Perrault said firmly, in a voice she recognised as his Captain Voice. It was authoritative, stern, and brooked no argument. Heavens, but she loved it. “My wife and I are weary, and it is far too late to make further into town.”

It felt as if her blood had caught fire at those words- _my wife and I_. Well, clearly that solved the problem of what he expected their sleeping arrangements to be that night. 

If, as he said, there was any sleeping to be had at all. At the quick look he gave her over his shoulder, she was beginning to suspect there might not be. 

The night man reluctantly opened the door the rest of the way and let them pass through; Cinders nearly squeaked when she felt the heat of Perrault’s hand against her lower back again, as he guided her through the dark main room. The fire had burned down to embers, and the light was dim, but she knew his eyes were on her. She shivered, and she knew he felt it from the way his fingers stroked at her back in response. 

Coin changed hands, and the night man offered Perrault a key with directions that led them to the top of the stairs, and then to the end of the hall. It was nearly pitch black on the landing, and she was guided by Perrault’s hand rather than by sight. Her breathing was growing difficult, and her skin felt far too tight and hot. Surely he could hear her by now, almost gasping as she was. But he didn’t say a word, even as he reached past her and slid the key into the lock to their room.

Like below, the room was dark, the fire low in the grate. She came to a stop somewhere near the middle of the small room- eyes immediately going to the large bed by the wall, how could she not notice it?- and tensed as she heard the click of the lock. 

Silence reigned for a moment, hot and tense and desperate, and she didn’t know whether she was supposed to break it, or what he expected of her, or if after all this she was still reading too much into this-

“So,” he said finally, quietly, and he was much closer behind her than she had realised, “here we are.”


	3. Chapter 3

She swallowed nervously, her mouth suddenly dry. “Here we are,” she echoed, her fingers clutching at the folds of her skirts so he didn’t spot them trembling. A silly thing to worry about, because she was quite certain it was too dark in here in the first place, for him to notice a tiny detail like shaking fingers, but pride was never a sensible thing. And then of course that made her think of their conversation earlier that night about things that were _sensible_ , and even as his hands came up to her arms, fingers dancing over the bared skin just below her shoulders, she couldn’t help but laugh.

She could tell he was smiling as he said “Something amuses you?”

Turning in his arms, she looped her hands around his neck; his came to rest over her hips, fingers splayed out over her curves. In the dim light the scars on his face seemed a great deal more jagged than normal, fierce lines that would have looked frightening on anyone other than him. Well, to be quite honest, they looked frightening on him anyway but she knew they were a mark of who he was and what he had conquered and that made them dear to her. “How old are you?” she asked, rather than answering his question.

His eyebrows shot up. “You were laughing because you were thinking about my age?” he said, somewhat incredulously.

She laughed. “No, no! It’s not like that. I was laughing about being sensible, if you must know.” His thumbs were stroking slowly, a teasing sort of motion that was oddly comforting as well. It made her want to lean into him, eyes closed in anticipation. She resisted the urge, for the moment. “But come on- how old are you?”

“How old are _you?_ ” he countered. There was a teasing note in his voice, and his hands tightened slightly around her waist, as if he were pinning her in place. She rather liked that. 

“Twenty one,” she said. “How old are _you?_ ”

Perrault groaned, a rueful look crossing his face. “God Almighty, as if I’d tell you now! Bad enough that I _feel_ like an ancient lech without you knowing for sure that I am!” 

“You cannot possibly have thought me much older than that anyway,” she teased, inching a little closer and seeing the flare of interest in his eyes. In a wheedling tone, she said “Pleeeease?”

He sighed, dropping his gaze. “I’m thirty eight.”

She wanted to laugh at the pout she heard in his voice, but she knew better than to poke at his wounded pride. “Oh see now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said, cocking her head to the side to try and catch his attention and make him look at her again. “And you’re hardly _immensely_ ancient. Just moderately so.”

That got a gruff laugh from him. “Careful girl, you’ve a lot of sass for such a wee thing,” he said. She scrunched up her nose at him, and his grin grew more relaxed; she felt the tension in his shoulders ease beneath her hands. “I can’t decide if this grand plan of yours was incredibly bold or unbelievably mad.”

She swayed a little closer, enough that their noses were touching. “Can I not be boldly mad, or madly bold instead?”

“You seem determined to be whatever you want to be, consequences and other opinions be damned,” he murmured, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her lips. “So I suppose it’s more the question- what do _you_ want to be?”

It seemed like a challenge, so she answered it honestly. “Yours,” she whispered.

She kissed him, and he was waiting for her this time- no shocked moment of stillness to mark the moment as awkward. His arms came up around her, crushing her to him even as he crushed her mouth with his. She would have gasped in delight, had she the room for it, but his arms were like iron bands around her, his hands all but burning her as he pressed her as close as possible. 

And, oh, what a kiss it was! He had been gentle earlier, his touch tentative and his kisses soft as if he’d been worried about scaring her away. He held nothing back, his tongue tempting her to open her mouth to him; she did gasp at the first touch, and he took full advantage of the lapse. He tasted so strange, so delightful- she thought she could still taste the bitter tang of ale, and the silken hint of the spiced wine from the ball. She sighed, and when he caught her upper lip between his and sucked gently the sigh turned into a moan. She tightened her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him, something that seemed to amuse him if the chuckle that rumbled up from his chest was any indication. 

She felt one of his hands drift up her back, and a moment later his fingers were buried in her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss. His fingers were busy- she felt them tugging at the scrap of fabric that held her unruly hair in place. At his teasing the knot fell away and her hair slipped free. He paused just long enough to cast it into the dark corner of the room, before returning, kissing her breathless once again. 

She wanted to giggle, but the sound that emerged seemed more like a whimper, and despite how tightly she clung to him she felt him tense and try to pull away.

“Perrault,” she moaned, “what-?” 

Gasping, he pulled back, trying his best to look serious even with the dazed expression in his eyes. Her lips were tingling, bereft of his attention. “Cinders,” he said, struggling to catch his breath, “we don’t have to… it doesn’t have to mean _this_. Travelling together, I mean. That is, travelling together doesn’t have to mean…” He gestured awkwardly between them.

She let out a shaky laugh. “It’s just a _word_ , Perrault,” she said, her chest heaving in a manner that was distracting even for her. She was sure it’d never done that before. “Afraid to say the word sex? I would have thought a man of your years would have plenty of experience with both the word _and_ the act.”

He gave her a pained look. “Of course I have exper- that isn’t the point! I’m trying to be a gentleman because I don’t…” He stumbled to a halt again. “I don’t want you to feel like this is… that is to say, you shouldn’t feel that this is _necessary_.”

It was her turn to give him an incredulous look. “Oh believe me, it’s _very_ necessary right now.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it,” he said, his voice shaky. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I could put my tongue back in there instead if you’d prefer.”

She couldn’t tell if he was laughing or choking. “Cinders!”

“What? Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t make me a simpleton.” She kissed him once, fiercely. “You think you can just kiss a woman like that without it rousing some kind of fire in her?”

He was on her almost before she’d finished speaking, so ardently that he propelled her backwards several steps and closer to the bed. She stumbled, but his arms were tight around her again and he kept her from falling. “Apparently we are of an accord,” she gasped when he broke away from her again. He spun her, pulling her so that her back was pressed to him. “It _is_ inconsiderate to kiss a woman like that and think to leave her that way.”

She gasped and shuddered as he kissed her neck; hard enough to bruise she was sure. “You don’t exactly make it a balanced argument,” he growled, one of his hands slipping between them to loosen the ties of her corset. “A man only has so much self-control when the lady in question uses such provocative language.”

“I warned you I was a quick study,” she moaned, arching back into him instinctively. Lord, it felt as if her blood was on fire, like every nerve ending was sparking and about to ignite. When his teeth grazed the skin just below her jaw she cried out, her hands clutching at him wherever she could reach- one on his hip, the other buried in his hair. 

“I don’t want you to regret this,” he began, murmuring the words against her skin as it were a prayer. 

As she felt the corset loosen around her waist, she said “Trust me, regret is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you-”

Despite the desperate heat burning through her, she still laughed. She broke from his hold and spun around to face him. She kissed him ferociously, and used the distraction to shuck his coat from his shoulders. He obliged enthusiastically, tossing it quickly to the side and cradling her face in his hands to kiss her anew. She planted her hand firmly in the centre of his chest- and pushed.

The act caught him off guard, and he flailed a little as he toppled back onto the bed; she didn’t have time to gloat, though, because he managed to keep a hold of her other hand in the confusion, and pulled her down with him. Her oomph of discomfort was matched by his grunt of pain as she landed on him a little awkwardly, but even as she whispered desperate apologies to him, he rolled them and pinned her to the bed, trapping her beneath him and kissing her furiously. It was like he wanted to devour her.

“Perrault,” she whimpered, in one of the brief moments she had to catch her breath. With the corset loose on her now, the dress gaped provocatively and had slipped down low over her chest. The buckles on two of his belts came into contact with bared, quivering flesh, and the cold metal against her flushed skin was the most delicious sort of torture. And Perrault himself, hot and heavy over her, pressing her into the thin straw mattress with his weight… she should have felt crushed by it, panicked even, but she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go. 

“Cinders,” he growled in return, wedging one of his legs between her own; she sobbed in delight, the assault of sensations almost too much to deal with. “I don’t-”

She grabbed him by the chin, her eyes wild. “Please stop saying ‘I don’t’ and replace it with something that sounds a lot more like ‘I’m going to tear all your clothes off now’.”

He laughed, desperately. The madness that had gripped her was mirrored in his eyes. “I don’t think I told you my name,” he said. “It’s Bellamy.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said frantically. “ _Now kiss me!_ ”


End file.
